Mother's Love

by Kirsty Dallas

  Sam moved back in front of his computer. “I have an idea.” He began plucking away on the keyboard, and after only a minute of silence, my patience wore thin.

  “Are you going to fill me in on your idea?”

  Sam laughed. “Nope, it’s highly unethical and a little bit illegal.” I groaned. “Don’t worry, Boss, you know I would never do anything to put you or your company at jeopardy. I’m the master at this shit, and you know that’s not ego talking. I’ll be in and out of the doc’s computer before she even notices me, and trust me,” Sam grinned, “if I wanted her to notice me, she would.”

  Chapter 13

  Annie

  “It’s quiet today,” Michael noted as he cleaned the last of the coffee mugs.

  I’d been lost in frightening thoughts, and his voice snapped me back to attention. Eli, Bomber, and Rebecca were laughing loudly from the other side of the building. Bomber had a long stemmed rose stuck out of his nose, and Eli was about to join him before Rebecca pulled the flower from his hand and tried her best ‘no’ face. Dillon had left for his office two hours ago, desperate to pursue any lead he could think of on Phillip’s disappearance. Part of his parole deal was that he attend regular visits with his psychiatrist, and according to his psychiatrist, he had now missed three.

  “It’s too beautiful a day to be inside. Everyone’s down at the park enjoying the sun,” I sighed, which was exactly where I wanted to be. I loved my job and found a calming tranquility in the coffee shop, but what I had told Dillon this morning had been the absolute truth. I became anxious with walls around me for too long. I often needed a break from indoors; I needed to see the sky and breathe in the fresh air, if anything, just to know I could. I glanced back at Eli. Being indoors certainly wasn’t bothering him; although, he did have a team of people willing to keep him entertained. Lola grinned at something Eli said as she continued to work at tying off a bunch of roses and garland before moving them to the fridge for collection. Although she stood at the same table as Rebecca, Eli, and Bomber, she stood far to one end, like she was on the fringes of their conversation, her attention only on them when she felt she had to be. The rest of the time she seemed anxious, her gaze crossing to the front doors every time they opened. I was tempted to go see if she was okay, but we had all come to realize long ago that Lola didn’t like to talk about her past, and we respected that privacy. I understood better than most that the past was often better left in the past.

  Michael took an order from a young college student and began making up her skinny latte. There was only one other customer in the café who sat by the front windows working on his laptop, his long finished coffee sitting discarded to one side.

  “I’m going to check the stock. Call out if you need me,” I said with a sigh. I needed to do something, otherwise, I was going to lose my mind.

  Michael leaned against the counter, his phone in his hands, as he waved me away. “As you can see, I’m rushed off my feet. Don’t know how I’ll possibly handle it.”

  I shook my head at his sarcasm and grabbed a notepad and pen as I made my way down a short hallway and into the storeroom. I flicked on the light before moving inside. It was a large room, tidy and organized in such a way that we could see at a glance what we were running low on. As I expected, we didn’t appear to be low on anything. I began straightening the already orderly canisters on the shelves. I nudged a heavy box of jars to one side and reached for a large bag of sugar that sat a little too high. A moment later a shuffling at the doorway caused my heart to suddenly lurch, and I let out a little squeal. Dillon stood there, his hands raised in a gesture of peace.

  “Sorry, Sunshine, didn’t mean to scare you. I made as much noise as possible so you would hear me coming.”

  “You walk like a mouse, Dillon. I don’t think it’s possible for you to make noise.” He leaned casually against the door frame, a grin on his face. “Anything on my mystery attacker?” I asked as his eyes roamed up and down my body.

  “Not yet. The police haven’t gotten a hit on the fingerprints, but that doesn’t surprise me. The perp probably wore gloves. Did you happen to notice?”

  “No,” I quickly said not wanting to revisit those thoughts.

  “The building across the road from yours has security cameras, but they don’t pan up high enough to cover your side of the street. Sam is doing his computer thing and chasing a lead as we speak. How are you doing?”

  I returned my attention to the shelves behind me. “Jumpy, a familiar feeling that I hate,” I confessed.

  “Well, you don’t need to jump while I’m around, unless, of course, it’s up onto the counter in front of you there.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and tried not to smile at his naughty suggestions. He simply raised a brow and grinned. The smile softened his appearance. His Montgomery Securities black uniform generally gave him a dark and deadly look, one I also found incredibly sexy.

  “What are you looking at?” I asked as he continued to stare at me.

  “Don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying the view.” He smirked.

  I shook my head and tried to reach for the sugar. “You could always help,” I tried to say it with irritation, but the reality was I was glad to see him. I immediately felt the heat of his body at my back as he easily lifted the heavy bag of sugar down for me. Rather than moving out of my personal space though, Dillon stayed at my back, dropping a kiss to the arch of my neck.

  “Way I see it, you don’t need any sugar. You’re sweet enough as it is.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Did you hear that line in one of those romance movies you like so much?”

  “Probably. Too much?”

  “If anyone else had heard you, you’d be picking your pride back up off the floor. Luckily for you, I like your mushy words.”

  “I’ve got more,” he whispered, trailing kisses up my neck. The hard length of his body was pressed against my back. “But I don’t really feel like being sweet and romantic right now.” His hands rose to cup my breasts, and my long sigh was caught in a low moan.

  “Dillon, we can’t . . .” I began.

  “Yes, we can,” he purred in my ear.

  “The door,” I gasped as his teeth gently nipped at my earlobe. “And Eli’s out there.” Dillon was suddenly gone from behind me, and I heard the door close and the lock click into place. “You okay with this?” He pointed to the locked door, and I knew he was concerned about me feeling trapped in the confined space. Even though my exit had been blocked, I trusted Dillon would let me leave any time I wanted to. The only flutter in my heart was one of anticipation. I turned and leaned against the counter behind me, watching him as he strolled forward, heat and desire burning in the grey depths of his eyes.

  “It’s okay. I trust you.”

  “Not completely you don’t, but that’s okay. You will.”

  His words stumped me for a moment. I did trust Dillon. He would never hurt me or Eli, I knew that now. But, I was keeping something from him and maybe that meant I didn’t trust him as much as I thought I did. I gave my head an almost imperceptible shake. No, I trusted Dillon. What I didn’t trust were the men who were watching and threatening me. What I didn’t trust was myself and how I would get out of this shitty situation that Phillip had placed me in.

  “Where did you go just now?” Dillon murmured, a finger lifting my chin.

  “Nowhere,” I whispered.

  Dillon feathered barely there kisses along my cheek. “See, you can’t even trust me with the truth of your thoughts.”

  “Where’s Eli?” I asked, suddenly nervous under Dillon’s watchful perception of me and my feelings for him.

  “Eli is playing games on Bomber’s phone, which will keep him occupied for hours.” When he stood so close, I could feel the heat radiate from his body, he raised a hand and pushed aside the bag of sugar. Leaning in as close as he was, I could smell the masculine scent that seemed to cling to his skin. It was musky, almost earthy and natural; it was all Dillon.
His large hands settled on my waist, and he lifted me to sit on the counter. When his hands began to push my black skirt up my legs, my eyes widened in surprise. Dillon’s eyes were focused on my legs, which were exposed to his gaze one slow inch at a time.

  “So soft,” he whispered as his thumb rubbed soothing circles on my thigh. I glanced nervously at the door and tried to find some measure of comfort in the fact it was locked and no one could walk in on us. I glanced at the light switch then back to Dillon. It was too bright in here, and I wasn’t sure I would be comfortable with his study of me under the bright conditions. Before I could voice my concerns though, he had reached the apex of my thighs. “Lift,” he purred in my ear, his lips gently nibbling the lobe. My nipples tightened, and my heart pounded heavy and fast. I lifted, and Dillon gripped the sides of my panties and quickly lowered them. For a split second I worried about what underwear I had chosen to wear today. Navy blue cotton bikini briefs, nothing special, but not the worst in my more than ordinary underwear drawer. Dillon didn’t pay them a moment’s attention, though, his focus on the neatly trimmed strip of hair between my thighs. When he dropped to his knees before me, I blanched, trying to wriggle away from his eager gaze. His eyes rose to mine, searching with intense need. “You are so fucking beautiful, Annie. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, about this.” Forcing my knees open with his hands, Dillon reached a finger to my hot center and stroked through the wetness there. “Even though we were together last night, I could have easily stroked myself to climax after I left you just thinking about this,” he confessed. My eyes fluttered shut of their own accord, and my hips automatically drifted forward to give him better access, his words igniting a flame that burned away any awkward tension. “You like the idea of my hand on my dick?” The question should have been crude, instead, it was hot as hell, and my answering groan told him all he needed to know. “My hand is no replacement for this,” he whispered, his finger slipping inside me. “But I’ll be damned if I can stop thinking about you long enough to make my hard-on disappear.” A hand pulled my shirt out of the waistband of my skirt, pushing it up over my breasts. Dillon pulled the cups down and began pinching my nipple. When his lips unexpectedly tugged on my clit, I just about launched myself off the counter. Dillon’s sturdy hand on my hip and breast kept me in place, though. He growled with animalistic satisfaction, his tongue circling the tight bundle of nerves. My hand curled around the edge of the counter as I thrust forward a little, offering him more of me, demanding he take all of me. When the warmth of his mouth and hand disappeared, my eyes sprung open with outrage that quickly disappeared with a pang of insecurity. Dillon was clawing at his belt, pulling it free before lowering the zipper of his pants, all the while his eyes never leaving me. “Shuffle forward a little more.” His voice was commanding yet gentle. Dillon helped me move my bottom right to the edge of the counter before he grabbed his rigid length and began to stroke it through my wetness. I wrapped my legs around his thighs, encouraging him closer, needing his warmth but also needing the shelter of his body to vanquish my own anxieties of having my body on display under the bright fluorescent light. Finally, he lined our bodies up and began to enter me with short strokes. He teased me, taking his sweet time before he was finally buried to the hilt.

  “More,” the word slipped from my lips and seemed to take Dillon by surprise as much as it did me. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t laugh or smile, instead, he leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth as he began to fuck me hard and fast. His large hands reached behind me and gripped my ass, pulling me further onto him. “Oh, my God,” I moaned, the dual sensation of him in me while his mouth tugged at my nipple quickly gathered me into the arms of an orgasm. With every stroke, every pull of his mouth, I wound tighter and tighter. With a gentle pop, his mouth pulled free of my breast and closed over my lips. The faint taste of my own scent on his lips would have made me blush if he hadn’t been doing such wicked and wonderful things to my body. Breaking for a gulp of air, his face burrowed in my shoulder.

  “I can’t hold on much longer, Annie, tell me you’re close.”

  Unable to speak I simply nodded and clenched my thighs more firmly around his waist. My feet dug into his ass urging him on. Dillon obeyed the unspoken command and surged into my body. My orgasm hit hard, my head rolling back against the wall as a long, loud groan was drawn from my mouth. As my pulsing core twitched through the lingering remnants of an orgasm, Dillon withdrew from my body and pumped his fist up and down his cock and came over the exposed skin of my stomach.

  “Fuck,” he finally murmured as his fist slowed. “No condom,” he groaned. “I’m sorry.” His forehead leaned against mine. “I’m such an idiot. I had one in my wallet but the moment I saw you I forgot about everything except getting inside you.” I smiled at his reproach.

  “I get an injection for contraception,” I said with my usual blush. Dillon’s look of surprise was priceless.

  “I didn’t think there had been anyone since Phillip.”

  “There hasn’t, only you.” I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the embarrassment over the conversation. I wished I were more brazen and bold like Rebecca and Ella in that moment. “I suffer from quite uncomfortable menstrual pain. The doctor started me on the injection to control the discomfort after Eli was born. I forgo pretty lingerie and nice clothes just to be able to afford the injection. It’s a god send.” Dillon kissed the corner of my mouth as he reluctantly stepped away from my body.

  “I’ll pay for it from now on.” I stared at him, mouth open, shock in my eyes, and Dillon chuckled. “It would be no different to paying for condoms, and trust me, the thought of coming inside your sweet wet heat is worth it.” Dillon grabbed a couple of tissues from the box by the door and wiped away the mess he had left on my stomach. With more blushing, I allowed him to help straighten my clothes. He even scooped up my panties and held them for me to step into.

  “I’ve got them,” I murmured as he tried to pull them up my legs. With a grin, he stepped away, straightened his own clothes, and leaned against the door. It was then I noticed I was still clutching the notepad and pen in my hand. Laughing, I took in the amused twinkle in Dillon’s eyes.

  “The best sex is never in the bedroom,” he chuckled.

  “You certainly helped take my mind off things,” I agreed. Dillon moved forward and kissed me soundly.

  “I bet bending you over the hood of my Chevy would help you lose your mind for a while.” I made a sound, something between a gasp and laughter. His bold confession filled my head with wicked thoughts.

  “You are deviant, Dillon Montgomery. How did I never know this about you?”

  He placed a kiss to the arch of my neck. “Because you friend-zoned me, and trust me, I don’t go around offering to lay my friends over the hood of my car.”

  “Good to know,” I breathed as he continued to kiss my neck.

  “Get used to it, Annie. You bring out the deviant in me, but only you, Annie. No one else has ever made me feel this way. I can’t get enough of you.” He pulled away so I could see the honesty in his eyes.

  “Me either,” I confessed.

  “And you’re mine to protect, you and Eli. No one will lay a finger on either of you again.” His hand gentled over the cut on my scalp. I nodded, unable to find words to echo his sincerity. “I had better get you back out front before Eli or Michael comes down here looking for you.” As if on cue, I blushed. “I love that,” Dillon chuckled, a finger brushing over my cheek. “Come on, we’re going to get something to eat, and I need coffee, then I’ll call Sam and see what he has.”

  I couldn’t help but melt under the warm, protective hand that settled on my lower back as Dillon guided me back out into the café. God, I loved him. I had since the first time I had seen him. Something about this man drew me, like a moth to a flame, and I could no longer ignore the need that burned inside for Dillon Montgomery. I needed him like I needed to breathe, and while that terrif
ied me, it also filled me with a passion and excitement I had buried long ago. Dillon was as much my sunshine as I was his, and I’d be damned if I would live in the shadows of fear anymore.

  *

  I had never been beyond the living room and bathroom at Braiden and Dillon’s home, yet now I stood in the guest room helping Eli climb into a pair of pajamas. Dillon refused to leave us at my apartment, and when he had suggested a sleep over, Eli had yelled in agreement, and just like that, we were packed up and herded out the front door. To be honest, I was glad I wasn’t alone, and if there was anywhere on God’s green earth where I felt safe, it was in the home of and Braiden and Dillon Montgomery.

  “Mom, is Dillon going to be my dad?” Eli asked as his head popped out the hole in the top of his pajama shirt.

  His question caught me by surprise, and I wasn’t exactly sure how to answer. “Do you want him to be your dad?”

  “He’d be a cool dad, but Bella at school said he couldn’t be my dad because he didn’t make me. How does a dad make a kid, other than with oranges?”

  Oh, lord, that was a question I wasn’t ready to answer. “What about Caleb in your class? He has a stepdad, right?”

  “It’s not the same as a dad,” Eli murmured. I sat him down on the bed beside me and tried to brush his hair as he deftly ducked his head around the brush. Giving up, I laid down and Eli flopped down beside me.

  “Just because Dillon didn’t make you doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. You love him even though he didn’t make you, right?”

  “I love Dillon heaps, even more than my real dad. My real dad scares me.”

  My heart broke in that moment, and while there would be no Eli with Phillip, I felt a surge of guilt that I had allowed Eli to be exposed to a man who hurt someone he loved so violently. He shouldn’t have those memories, no child should.

  “I think,” I whispered, “a dad isn’t defined by the blood he carries, but by the love he carries in his heart for a boy who isn’t even his biological son. Dillon loves you to the moon and back, Bean. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says or thinks; all that matters is what you say and think.”